pour some sugar on me
by dharkephoenyx
Summary: She was driving him crazy. Her smell. The taste of her. The silkiness of her skin. She had starred in every wet dream he had and there were some days he was surprised and very, very happy she let him love her. Every inch of her. Futurefic Finchel.


**A/N: So. I, uh, was doing laundry and the washing machine was there. And, um, well, Finn kinda nudged me in this direction, pretty sure he liked it. Futurefic Finchel with some citrusy loving. Rated M, blame (thank?) Finn. Everything up to season 2 finale.**

**Disclaimer: Glee, not mine. Not unless you count the season 1 and 2 DVDs and a couple of FDNY calendars.**

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><p><strong><strong>pour some sugar on me<strong>  
><strong>

_Crazy little woman in a one man show  
>Mirror queen, mannequin, rhythm of love<br>Sweet dream, saccharine, loosen up_

_i._

He was dirty, achy and miserable. Finn was frickin tired.

He yawned again. Like bone tired. Like fall-asleep-at-the-wheel tired. He was almost tempted to just sleep at the firehouse tonight and go home in the morning. But he knew he'd sleep better in his bed. Beside the soft, curvy woman there waiting on him. So, the minute he got out of the firetruck, he went straight to his locker, shucked his gear, grabbed his duffel and poked his head into the fire chief's office.

"Chief. I'm out."

The ruddy-faced man looked up from his phone call, still in his fireman garb and held a finger up. Finn bit back a scowl and threw the duffel over his back, nodding at Mike and Grissom as they passed by. He could've gone straight home instead of going on the call but he'd feel like a dick afterwards so he went, herding the men onto the truck towards the blaze over in Yonkers. It was messy, and they'd found two dead. He just wanted to go home, bury himself into her hair and feel her lively warmth in his arms. And sleep.

Finally the chief finished up and tugged his jacket off.

"Hudson, thanks for sticking around, that could've gotten nastier, never easy to lose someone. A kid no less."

He nodded somberly at the older man.

"Listen, I'm sending you and Chang to that EMT conference in Jersey next month. It's always good to have extra skills hanging around. And you can take an extra day, since you went two hours into getting off your shift, don't worry about the paperwork, just go home to that lovely woman of yours, rest up and make sure I have banana bread on my desk when you come back in."

Finn, his mood lifted, chuckled and nodded. "Yessir."

"Good. Now get out." They shook hands and Finn practically sprinted to his truck.

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><p><em>ii.<em>

He was looking forward to practically falling asleep in their bathtub (thank you Kurt for convincing the hellion he was living with that a larger bathtub was exceedingly preferable). He got home, safely, and dragged his feet up the stairs to their brownstone. He scowled at the drizzle of rain that threatened to fall. Really?

Opening the door there were no lights on save the little lamp over the reading table. It was late, and there was no music playing, as would be the norm. Not wanting to wake her if she was sleeping, he moved quietly to the master bedroom. Nothing. She wasn't in bed nor in the bathroom. He took one longing look at the tub and then hurried to the guest bedroom.

Not there. He went up to his rec room. Nope.

Another quick glance back at the living room and the kitchen. Nothing.

Trying not to panic, he walked slowly to the fridge – if they were going to miss each other, they'd leave notes on the magnets; there was nothing there.

He hadn't seen her in three days even though he spoke to her too many times throughout. Before he'd gone out on the call earlier he'd made sure to call her directly, she was still at the theatre house, to let her know he'd be late coming in tonight and he'd sent her a quick text when he got back to the station. She fretted even more nowadays, and hearing him was the only way he could prevent her from literally coming into the firehouse and ranting to his boss.

He pulled out his phone, checking for messages or missed calls. Nothing.

The rain had come down harder outside and he forced himself to breathe before rushing to check her closets and breathed a heavy sigh of relief when he saw her clothes, shoes and suitcases still there.

So where was she? He stood at the bedroom door and surveyed the living room again. He didn't want to call her, again, and freak out but if he didn't hear from her in 30 seconds he was calling the police. And Puck. And Santana. Mike too. Puck could organize a search party from the precinct.

Where was she? His gaze landed on a piece of paper stuck to his Heisman, right between her Tony & the MVP award Glee had given her after Regionals. Of all the many trophies she'd earned, she boasted about that the most and polished it til it shone beside his; she loved her Tony award, yes, but she was more proud of the Glee trinket and _his_ college award. Women, he'd never understand.

He walked over and pulled the note off.

_laundry_

He turned to the washroom. The rain was steadily falling harder and he pulled the door open, flicking the light on and looking down the stairs. The hum of the washing machine greeted him and he moved downward until he could see.

His wife was wearing nothing but her wedding rings, her star necklace and the most devious smirk ever. And red five-inch come fuck me heels.

His mouth went dry and his entire body went rock hard.

He loved Rachel Berry. With every fibre of his being. He'd been in love with her since they were 15 and would still be in love with her for the next hundred if he could be so lucky. He was totally, irrevocably and immensely in love with that woman. And he was pretty sure she loved him back. They exchanged the words blended sweetly with their kisses every day.

But Rachel Hudson?

He worshipped the ground she walked on. The woman never failed to amaze him with some out there idea and their lovemaking was never restricted to the bedroom. He was pretty sure _she_ was trying to kill him.

Kurt had taken to carrying wipes around with him; he'd walked into a particularly heated session on the kitchen counter screaming about washing out his brains with bleach and Puck loved showing up unannounced after he'd barged in one evening with Rachel on her knees.

Rachel Berry could blush, cry on demand and lecture him about eating three plates of food at Thanksgiving. But Rachel Hudson loved to put her hands in his front pocket as they walked down the supermarket aisle, eat an ice cream cone like it was a learned skill and corner him in the bathroom for a quickie right after his second plate of food at Thanksgiving.

And right now Rachel Hudson was sitting on top of a washing machine.

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><p><em>iii.<em>

Rachel and Finn had bought the house two months after he graduated from OSU. She'd already starred in two off-Broadway plays, one lead and was pretty sure she had a chance to actually get on the Tony nominees list, fingers crossed, _Wendla_ was the role of a lifetime. So they decided to enjoy life, before the craziness started up again. Finn joined the FDNY, starred in afew of their calendars - Rachel took home several from her castmates and their friends who wanted his autograph. She grinned and stood over his shoulder as he signed every one. He refused to kiss her for two hours until she'd waltzed into their bathroom ignoring him. When he came to bed and she was lotioning her skin, he took one look, one whiff and kissed every inch of skin until the sun reminded them responsibilities lay ahead.

The house was sparsely decorated with furniture from Finn's apartment back in Columbus and Kurt had basically claimed decoration duties, allowing her to take little from the apartment they'd once shared.

So now, Rachel sat on the armrest of the couch as Puck & Finn sat down to watch the game. Whether he liked it or not, they were going to at least get a proper bathtub and a washer and dryer. Finn just wanted to watch the game, drink beer and not think about work for three days.

"Finn you live here and will be doing laundry, so I would prefer if you would come with us tomorrow when we go shopping."

"Rach, my mother and brother will be with you. You don't need me to pick out a washer and dryer babe."

Puck snickered. Finn didn't look away from his wife as he punched him.

"You're coming tomorrow." Rachel raised an eyebrow and stalked back to the kitchen. Finn looked at her for a minute, turned back to the game and sighed. Before Puck could open his mouth again Finn punched him on the shoulder again, ignoring his best friend's snickers as he fell over laughing.

He strolled behind his mother, brother and Rachel the next morning. They'd been to three stores, Finn was on his fourth cup of coffee and he'd managed to sneak away once to buy a small bottle of whiskey. Shopping for anything with those three was less preferable than a four-alarm fire.

Finally, they seemed to agree on something. Rachel called him and he walked over, wrapping his arms around her waist as she pointed to the two machines.

"It's a powerhouse, several speeds and almost as tall as Rachel." Kurt mused. Rachel flipped him off as Carole studied the washing machine in approval.

"Finn?"

It was a red and silver front load washer. It was big. And it was more expensive than the TV he really wanted for his den.

"It's red." He answered.

Rachel raised an eyebrow at him as his mother just shook her head. She grinned and tugged his shoulder so he could lean down.

"Washing machine sex." She whispered and kissed his ear.

He looked at her, smiling at the smirk tugging at her lips and bent down to steal a kiss. She giggled. He looked back to his mother. "Does it come in blue?"

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><p><em>iv.<em>

He walked closer to her, her body shook as the machine vibrated beneath her. She wiggled her fingers at him in greeting.

"You're dirty." She smiled.

He didn't bother to look down. He'd come straight home after the dropping the truck off and clocking out, he was still dressed in his FDNY shirt and pants.

He nodded.

"Take them off."

He obeyed, dragging the shirt off in record time before Rachel tutted, "slowly." One hand rested behind her, jutting her breasts forward, the other lazily circled the twin peaks on her chest.

He narrowed his eyes at her but said nothing as he slowly toed of his boots and socks. Next his shirt came off. Rachel's eyes darkened as her hand settled on her left breast. So did his eyes.

His belt came next, he didn't bother taking that off, he just unbuttoned his pants and kicked them off, taking his boxers with them.

His body was hard, throbbing and he watched her as she watched him, spreading her legs a little. His breath hitched.

His wife was short, and he loved that about her. Sure, it was kind of tricky kissing her but it usually helped when she literally jumped into his arms. He was glad when Santana and Tina took her shopping before they left for college and she invested in heels. Much like the ones she wore now, and usually only for him. He could never understand how someone so petite could have legs that went on for days and he remembered the first time, and every time since those legs had been wrapped around his waist. He especially loved the tattoo on the inside of her ankle. He loved kissing that too.

His eyes dragged up over her body and he was again fascinated by her, laying spread for him. She blushed, the colour in her cheeks spreading down her neck, over her breast. As confident and coy as Rachel may be, the fact that he was the only person she would ever have this reaction for fuelled his ego. And sent more blood rushing to that part of his body that was more than eager to reacquaint itself with hers.

Her body was perfect. He'd spent enough time trying to convince her that comparing herself to anyone was useless because she was Rachel Berry and she was beautiful. Made specifically for him. And he was fucking lucky. He would never take her for granted. he'd learned his lesson. They fit perfectly together, physically and emotionally – her touch immediately soothed and grounded him through the worst of times. He loved every mole, every scar and everything that made her Rachel.

Her wedding rings sparkled in the light. He'd given her the ring his father had given his mother and coincidentally both women had matching birthstones. He'd told her he could replace the ring with something she really wanted but she refused. They wore identical bands that he'd also picked out and when she was performing, he kept her wedding ring, she refused to take the turquoise gem off, just switching to another finger if the need arose. She'd promised him she would never take it off when he proposed. It looked iridescent beside her skin.

Her chest was slightly larger, rosy nipples topped the swollen peaks. Her skin was impossibly smooth, an olive tone that seemed to perpetually glow, even now more so.

His eyes dragged up to her face, mouth spread, her tongue running wetly over her lips. Her eyes were hooded and tempting, lashes long enough to brush her cheeks when she closed her eyes. She wore no make-up, her hair messy and thrown over her shoulder and he'd never seen anyone more beautiful. And he wanted her.

Right fucking now.

Maybe she read his mind. Maybe she was impatient. But when she lifted one small hand and crooked a finger at him, he was in front of her with one step.

His hand rested beside her on top of the machine as she sat up and pressed her palm to his cheek. Her thumb brushed the side of his nose and came away dirty.

"You're still dirty."

"Uh huh."

"I'm going to get you dirtier." She smirked, kissing his jaw. She ran her hand up his chest, scraping her nails over his nipples and wrapped her arms around his neck. As he kissed her he could feel the machine vibrating beneath her and her nipples rubbed against his chest as he pressed himself into her belly.

She smiled and kissed his mouth, licking along his bottom lip before her tongue slipped into his mouth to touch his. She played with the hair at the base of his neck and he wrapped her thick hair around his hand, tilting her mouth so he could press his lips harder to hers. She tasted sweet, like she was soaked in strawberries and smelled like sin and heaven. And pretty much like that vanilla sugar body wash Kurt had bought for her two years ago that never seemed to run out and drove him fucking crazy.

"You taste like trouble." He whispered against her lips.

"Uh huh."

"And smell like heaven." His hands ghosted over her jaw and neck and his lips followed their path. The smell of her lotion invaded his senses again and she moaned as he sucked at her neck, her nails scraping across his back.

She was driving him crazy. Her smell. The taste of her. The silkiness of her skin. She had starred in every wet dream he had and there were some days he was surprised and very, very happy she let him love her. Every inch of her.

Her nipples were sensitive she reminded him. Too much pressure was too much. He peppered kisses down her neck, his hands ghosting down her sides to drag lazily across the skin at her waist. He kissed one mound then the other. She was making breathy sounds above him, her fingers buried in his hair. He blew over one peak, and Rachel clutched tightly. He kissed across her chest and did the same to the other, his breath hot.

"Ooooh, baby." She tugged again. His tongue snaked out and wrapped around one nipple, his lips tugging a little and Rachel _purred_ and pulled him closer when he did the same to the other. She kept asking for _more, more more_ and he obliged, his hand leaving her waist to rub along the silky skin on the inside of her thigh.

His fingers brushed her secret skin and Rachel moaned, his name slipping from her lips.

She protested when he kissed her stomach, lingering soft kisses over her skin, whispering the words he'd been telling her every day since he first realized she was it for him. He looked up and saw her smile, her bottom lip clenched between her teeth.

He pushed her back gently onto her elbows.

"Baby." She whined, trying to rub her legs together. Her breasts shook as the machine still moved beneath her.

"Shh, you had your fun." His lips moved to her belly button and he kissed the star she had inked into her skin, sucking the skin there while she tried to push his head lower.

"Finn, stop teasing."

"Rachel, stop talking."

He kissed the skin at her hip, on the inside of both her thighs, his tongue kissing everywhere but where he knew she wanted him to.

She whined again. "Finn."

He reached up and plucked a nipple, her hips arched into his mouth and he gave in, tasting the sweetness mixed into her curls there. She shrieked, her hands going back to his hair. _"Oh baby, feels good… ugnh… yesssss…" _

His tongue licked at her wetness again and she bucked into his mouth, her movements spurred on by the vibrations. She kept murmuring his name and _yes yes yes _interspersed with her moans.

She was still talking. He wanted her moaning. His lips pulled and his tongue licked and when he circled his lips around her and sucked _hard_ Rachel's breath caught. He slipped a finger inside and reminded her to breathe and she did. Her legs jerked as he put his lips to her again and then her hands were tugging at his ears, trying to pull him up to her.

"Now." She growled, crushing her mouth onto his, her tongue swirling inside his mouth. She wrapped her legs around his waist pulling their lower bodies closer, his hardness pressing into her belly.

"Baby, it's been three days, you need to fuck me _now_." Rachel bit down onto his bottom lip and he pulled back, dragging her hips to his and pressing into her easily.

His name escaped her lips on a breathy sigh. He grinned loving the feel of her warmth surrounding him as her fingers held onto his arms.

"So fucking wet, 's good, so fucking awesome babe." He kissed her forehead, her eyes, her nose, her cheeks, pressing a quick kiss to her lips before pulling his hips away and pushing into her as she whimpered.

The washing machine was a nice touch. As he moved with her, both their bodies vibrated and it had been three days _too long_ since he last had sex with his fucking hot wife and it felt so fucking _good._

Sweat from his forehead dropped onto her stomach as his body pushed into hers and she tangled her fingers with his. His thumb pressed into the skin of her hip, and he could feel her heels digging into his ass but he couldn't really mind because his woman was making the fucking sexiest of noises and he moved harder, trying to coax more from her.

Unintelligible words spilled from her lips along with his name and when she opened her eyes and begged for him to go harder, he hitched one leg over his shoulder and Rachel's back lifted off the machine and she made a sound between a growl and a scream and her eyes slammed shut.

She started panting his name, telling him she was _so so close! please, please Finn!_ and he pinched one of her nipples as his finger stole between her legs, pinching at her there too.

Her entire body shook. And the washing had nothing to do with it.

He'd always loved her voice, it was one of the first things that attracted him to her and right now he was equal parts glad they were in the washing room and that it was practically pouring outside. Rachel screamed as she came, her head falling back, thick silky hair spilling over her shoulders. Her body clamped down onto his and he almost lost his footing. He bent over and kissed her throat, still pumping into her as her fingers clawed over his back and he bit down hard where her neck met her shoulder and Rachel growled (the timer for the machine beeping as it stopped)

"_Holy fuck!"_ as she came again, her body still spasming under his as she shattered.

He licked where he bit and she whimpered. Finn grunted and held her close to him as his hips jerked and he spilled inside her. She kept her legs wrapped around his hips, hands still circled around his neck as their breathing slowed. She kissed his sweaty shoulder, licking up to his ear.

"Heya Daddy. Now mommy's all messy again."

His shoulders shook in laughter but he turned his head to her, tasting the salt of his skin mixed with hers on her lips. She moaned into the kiss, her fingers tangled in his hair.

Reluctantly he pulled away from her and she pouted, her bottom lip sticking out. He winked at her and pushed her back gently, resting his lips over her slightly swollen abdomen.

"Sorry baby. Daddy got a little bit carried away by seeing Mommy looking so fucking-, ("Finn! Language!") hot. I hope you don't mind if Mommy does this every time I come home."

Rachel chuckled and pulled him back up to her. "You're a dork."

"You love me."

She laughed, the sound rich and happy. "I can't help it."

"Well, I love you too. Both of you." He kissed her on her nose as he caressed her belly. Rachel smiled, and then yawned, her elbows giving away so she lay sprawled on top of the machine.

"This was a nice idea. A very nice idea. I'd thank my mother and brother but I really don't want to give Kurt somewhere else to avoid in the house."

Rachel snorted and smacked his chest. She yawned again.

"I love you Finn." she muttered languidly, her finger tracing his ring. He hummed happily.

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><p><em>v.<em>

He was tired. Toe-curling-need-to-catch-my-breath-after-some-fucking-hot-sex-with-my-wife tired. His back ached a bit where Rachel's heels dug into his back.

He was frickin tired.

His entire body was still thrumming and as he carried her up the stairs to their bedroom he thought of the bathtub again. He just needed to catch his breath.

He thanked his brother _again_ for convincing his wife that a bathtub that could comfortably seat him was a fuckin' fantastic idea.

_**fin**_

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><p><strong>AN. Song is Def Leppard – Pour Some Sugar On Me .. random song selection. **

**Reviews are better than sugar, gimme!**


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